There's a little known concept on the Internet called the "You're Getting On My F*cking Nerves" phenomenon. It's similar to certain aspects of parenting: You love your child, of course, but sometimes, you want to strangle him because he won't stop JUMPING ON YOU WHILE YOU'RE TRYING TO SLEEP.

Likewise, I love the Muppets. Everybody loves the Muppets. If you don't love the Muppets, you're automatically put on a terrorist watch list. I knew a guy that said he hated Rowlf on an airplane one day, and his family hasn't seen him since. But right about now, they're getting on my f*cking nerves. They are everywhere. There's a half a dozen real trailers, a dozen parody trailers, and 6,000 The Muppets movie posters, both fake and real. And there was even talk, last week, of them hosting the Oscars. This is what happens when you sell a classic and beloved property to Disney.

On the one hand, it's great: The Muppets have been largely silent for the last decade, and there last two films weren't exactly huge hits at the theater (Muppets in Space grossed $16 million, while Muppet Treasure Island grossed $34 million). Times have also changed: Ten or 15 years ago, a movie would open on 12-1500 screens and expand along with word of mouth. Now, The Muppets are competing in the opening weekend sweepstakes, which means as close to 100 percent saturation as possible.

But Kermit needs to get out of my goddamn face.

I can't wait to see the movie. I can't wait for a few more years, assuming that it's good, to see it with my kid. And I'm even a little excited that Muppet merchandise might be a big deal this Christmas, because I want to buy a Muppet. I'mma gonna buy me a Statler mask and wear it with a Santa suit this year, and I'm going to be Son-of-a-Bitch Santa for Christmas.

But the overexposure needs to stop. The idea of a Muppet backlash hurts to contemplate. I love the Muppets; I just want them to stop jumping on me while I'm trying to sleep.